Forget Me Not
by Superagaentv
Summary: Anne Elliot has not returned to her home in eight years, since she sent the love of her life away. Frederick Wentworth has spent the last eight years building his fortune to forget the girl who broke his heart. Fate brings them together in an unexpected, and curious, way. A modern retelling of Persuasion, by Jane Austen. Ratings may change over time.
1. Chapter 1

As the breeze blew about her, Anne Elliot felt the chill run down her spine as she took a final walk through the woods by her house. The mansion, having been in the family for generations, came with some land – though the size had dwindled over the years.

In her youth, the woods had been a place of escape, where she could go could and cry without the prying eyes of her family peering over her shoulder to ask as to why.

Moving away had been the hardest decision of her life, yet whenever she came back to her childhood home; she felt a deep connection to the land and wished she had never left.

 _How many ghosts linger here,_ she wondered, touching the bark of an oak tree.

In the distance, she could hear a car pulling up the drive. Peeking out from her spot, Anne felt a grim look take over her features.

Lady Russel.

 _Who else drives a silver Mercedes around here?_ Anne mused, watching silently for a moment. She had not seen the woman in eight years, not since that summer.

The woman that emerged from the car looked the same as the woman who danced through Anne's memory. Her long dark hair was curled perfectly, the head scarf and large black sunglasses she wore made her look like an brunette version of Grace Kelly. As the woman walked toward the door, Anne knew she could not hide for long. Lady Russel had a way of finding her when she never wanted to be found.

Emerging from the woods, Anne brushed any hairs or fibres from her blue jeans and pink plaid shirt.

Lady Russel, being part hound dog, turned abruptly and gestured. "Is that you Anne Elliot?"

"Lady Russel," Anne stated, offering a wave. "It's nice to see you again."

"Oh," the woman snorted. "What kind of greeting is that for your godmother?"

"I wasn't sure you hadn't disowned me," Anne stated with half a smile. "it's been a few years after all."

"Since you ran away, you mean," Lady Russel removed her sunglasses, showcasing her dazzling blue eyes. "My dear girl, I've been so worried. I even hired a private dick to find you."

"His name was Stanley." Anne offered. "Nice fellow."

The woman made a face. "Be that as it may, come on, show me inside. How's your father coping?"

Anne shrugged, almost flinching when the woman linked arms with her – as not a day had passed. Anne was suddenly transported back to when she was 18 and Lady Russel would walk, linked as if Anne was some precious commodity. "His world is collapsing around him and he cares more about the color of his side burns."

"Well," Lady Russel snorted. "He isn't the first aristocrat to lose his marbles in a bad stock market deal. He'll get over it."

"Try telling him that," Anne sighed, pushing open the front door. "I've been paying the servants with my savings, but I haven't enough to help with the taxes."

"You shouldn't be paying at all." Lady Russel stated, her voice furious. "You've worked far too hard to leaned on like this. What is Elizabeth doing?"

"Preening, I'd imagine. I think she said something about going on a date a few days ago." Anne offered, though she really had no idea. Her eldest sister was a small time celebrity with a terrible personality but stunning good looks. She was forever in between boyfriends while sleeping with a number of people on the side. "I barely see her."

"I see enough of her on those horrid commercials," Lady Russel laughed, and it made Anne smile. Hemorrhoid cream commercials. "Thank the good Lord she got a spot on that sordid Tv show, maybe now she can earn a living."

As if on cue, Elizabeth appeared. The tall, slender, brunette was wearing an expensive sweater and tailor made pants, with heels. "Ah, I thought I heard your voice Lady Russel," Elizabeth cooed, sauntering over, her short hair bouncing as she walked. With her make up and hair style, she looked much like Elizabeth Taylor playing Cleopatra. "How nice to see you again. Father is in the sitting room."

Anne took this as her cue to leave, and she made an excuse to bow out and return to the cataloguing of the things in the attic.

Lady Russel was an accountant, by profession, and was terribly good with numbers- which was good for her father and sister; but the woman was forever a gossip, and she had no doubt that the careful life she had built would suddenly be known to all.

Absently Anne bumped into a box, jumping back as it clattered to the floor; sending boat shaped papers across the hardwood floor.

Feeling her breath catch and her heart murmur, in an unhealthy fashion, Anne had to make herself pick them up. She didn't know she had kept the letters, she knew what each of them said.

Her heart ached to run her fingers over the fading ink, to relive the excitement that came when reading them.

Placing the lid back on the box, Anne shut her eyes and took a deep breath as his image come to her mind like a beacon of light.

Wild curly black hair swept over an angular face, revealing deep brown eyes and freckles on tanned skin, a smile dancing in his eyes as the smell of salt water lingered on his blue jacket.

Forcing her eyes open, she retreated from the attic and the face of the man whose heart she had broken 8 years ago.

Each passing moment since that day had been more torture than anything she had endured running away from home. No amount of distance had healed the wound she had inflicted on herself. Her family barely noticed her absence, let alone her broken heart. Instead she had packed her car with some clothes and her admissions letter to Oxford and never looked back.

But, in all this time, she loved him silently. Through her tears, through the gaping hole it left in her; she loved her memory of him. Two crazy kids in love.

"Anne, are you up here?" Elizabeth called. "Dinner's ready."

Anne sighed and glanced up at the attic around her, catching her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was done up in a bun, though hair seemed to find its way out, but she never wore it down any more. Her dirty blond hair was confined to one style, bringing out the hollow look to her cheekbones. Her hazel eyes seemed almost sunken, with lines around her eyes. Whatever bloom she might have had once had disappeared eight years ago.

Turning away from the hag in the mirror, she made her way downstairs and towards the familiar dining room. In a few days, her family would be relocating to some other place, and a new family would be moving into this house.

She could not wait to return to her life in Sussex, and the long hours at the hospital where she worked; forever to be remembering Frederick Wentworth.


	2. Chapter 2

Frederick sipped his third glass of water as if it were a fine wine, his lungs burned from exertion and he tried hard not to drink the whole Brita's worth of liquid. He had easily completed the first 5 miles of his run, though the remaining three had proved difficult.

"Freddy," a familiar voice called out in his apartment, making him smile. "is that you?"

"Morning Sophie," he replied, between gulps. "Sleep well?"

"Of course!" His sister appeared in her care bear pajamas and messy hair with a wide smile. The pretty red head didn't look a day over 25, but the 38-year-old was as fit as a fiddle. "Pull out couches never get me down."

He smiled at her, shaking his head. "Can anything?"

Sophia Croft was an fitness 'freak' making her living designing fitness programs for people, before putting out some rather hilarious videos on the internet. She had met her husband, who was almost ten years older, at one of her classes – where he had nearly collapsed after her Zumba course.

One trip to the hospital and telling the nurses she was his wife, later – and the rest, as they say, is history.

"How was your run?" she asked, getting from fruit out for a smoothie.

"Hard," he admitted. "I'm not used to being back on British soil. The air…it does something to my lungs."

She snorted but didn't look back at him. "That's what you get for spending so much time in Southern waters. You've become soft in your old age."

"You're seven years older than me!" he barked, and she just laughed.

"And yet I have the constitution of a horse," she teased, turning the blender on. "You're a tender little cinnamon roll."

"You've been spending too much time on Tumblr." He replied, drinking his water.

Shutting the blender off, Sophie handed him a glass of freshly poured smoothie. "Don't deny it Freddie, you look a bit toasty too."

"That's what happens when you go out in the sun," he teased, "unlike you I don't want the complexion of a ghost."

She snorted but smiled. "What's going to happen when you develop skin cancer? Hm?" she suddenly frowned and shook her head. "I'm not losing you too, ok Freddie?"

"I promise I will wear sunscreen," he said softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "How's house hunting?"

"Oh, I meant to tell you," she swallowed her smoothie and got excited. "I found a place yesterday. Get this, it's a mansion!"

"A mansion?" he blinked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Can you afford that?"

Rolling her eyes at him, but continued. "Oh please, we both know that the Admiral and I can."

"Okay, okay, just checking." He teased, sitting down. "Where is it?"

"Somersetshire!" she gushed, pulling out her phone from her pj pants pocket. "Look, it's a historical mansion that has been recently redone and they want to rent it out to a couple."

"More like a couple of couples." Frederick replied, wincing as she punched him. He was trying desperately to make light of the fact he was staring at a picture of a very familiar house. _Her_ house.

The house that mean freckles, laughter, and sneaking out into the woods to meet up after he had driven 17 miles to see her.

The heartbreak house.

"It's big, but honestly Freddy, you know that the doctor said the Admiral needed some quiet and solitude. It's perfect, and surprisingly cheap. I am taking a tour there with your brother tomorrow, just to make sure – but I think it's perfect. The girl on the phone was really sweet about it."

"Oh?" he murmured, eyeing the screen of the phone. "One girl stays in this place?"

"Don't be a smart ass," she reprimanded. "I think she said her name was Anne, quiet little thing. I could barely hear her. She's the owner's daughter, she answered when I called about the tour. I have been dealing with the estate agent – but anyway – she said that it would be no problem about a tour."

"She's giving you the tour herself?" he asked, trying to sound indifferent. He could hardly believe his ears. After all these years, she was still living in the old place.

"Mhm," Sophie nodded. "At 11 am tomorrow, when she gets back from the hospital."

He felt his heart lurch suddenly. "Hospital?"

"I happened to mention the Admiral's illness, and she said she knew the doctor treating him – she wanted to check on him and see if was mending ok in the local place. A sweetheart, completely."

"Or a serial killer," Frederick stated evenly. "You can't just go around telling people your personal stuff Sophie."

"Oh stop it Freddie." Sophie huffed, moving away. "Drink up, you have a long journey to meet that business man."

"I'm not walking there Soph," he chuckled. "And his name is Charles Musgrove. He read about my invention and wondered if it would be compatible for his farm."

"Which invention was that again?" Sophie asked, feigning ignorance.

"The second one, the water purifier." He shook his head at her. "How did I end up with such a goofy sister?"

"Because your brother is over the top serious and you are the youngest." Sophie made a face. "Just be lucky I'm getting my own place soon, or I might turn into a _cereal_ killer. You have the worst diet."

"But great genes." He retorted, ducking as a pillow from his couch sailed over his head.

"Get in the shower," she growled, "Or I will use all the hot water."

* * *

"You must be Charles?" Frederick said as he stood, welcoming the shorter, blond, man to his table with a firm handshake.

"I am, nice to meet you Mr. Wentworth." Charles replied, giving the man opposite a good sizing up.

Tall.

Handsome as hell.

Deep brown eyes that made even him giddy.

And a hell of a body, form what could been seen under a dress shirt and slacks.

 _If only I could introduce him to my sisters,_ Charles thought absently.

"Please, call me Frederick," he replied, sitting. "You wrote to my company to inquire about using the water filter for well water, correct?"

"Yes, you see the land my family farms on is very old – and hasn't really been updated. We have enough water, but we have to use an expensive method of treatment for it or bring it in."

"What type of farm is it?" Frederick asked, opening a file in front of him.

"Well I over see it, and I have tenants who do the actual farming. But it is mostly cows, pure bred, and horses. It's a historical area and a tv show, a few years ago, got an idea of coming to old traditional farms and letting people pay to see what life in the 1800s was like. It's lucrative, but I will need to dig new wells, and I thought your filtering invention might solve the problem I am having."

"I see, I wondered what historical living meant." He mused over the idea for a moment. "I'd have to see it, of course, but I think I can alter the design to suit your needs."

Charles was silent for a moment, twisting the wedding ring on his finger. "That sounds like it would cost an arm and a leg, Frederick, and I'm not as wealthy as you."

The man opposite him smiled. "Money is no object. I'd scale it to suit your budget, Charles. I've already made a fortune on me inventions, but only by being as assessable as humanly possible."

"Well then," Charles beamed, his eyes lighting up. "Why don't you come to my house and stay awhile? You could lodge at one of the sites but eat with us. Get the full experience in it. My parents inherited the Hall and Manor, and have turned it into a museum. Plus, there is great hunting and fishing."

Frederick, finding Anne Elliot to be weighing heavily on his mind all morning, wondered if a break might not be a bad idea. "I could use a vacation, Charles, thank you. My sister is moving into a house near yours, so I think I can make this a proper excuse to visit her more often."

"Excellent!" Charles grinned, feeling giddy. "Do you want to come down on Monday of next week? It will give me a chance to make sure the site is ready for you. You can pick on," Charles explained, pulling out his smart phone. He quickly brought up the website and photos of each cottage to rent. "Pick one that suits you and I will take care of everything."

"I can text you my choice, then?" Frederick asked, and Charles nodded. "Well then, I will start drawing up the plans and see you next Monday. Now, they make the best lunches ere. Won't you stay and eat with me?"

"I would be delighted to," Charles replied, settling in – actually taking off his jacket. "You must tell me about yourself. I've read all about you, as the famous inventor, but I also read you were in the coast guard?"

"I joined the summer I turned 27," Frederick explained, waving down a waiter. "It was the best experience of my life."

"And you are from Lyme then?" Charles asked, thinking back to the article.

"Yes and no. My father was Navy, and we moved around a lot. As an adult I decided to settle in Lyme after my time in the navy was over."

Charles narrowed his eyes. "You were in the navy?"

"Briefly, I joined at 18, but never fully committed myself until later. When I got out of the army I invented a part that would help naval ships be more efficient and, here I am."

"Here you are indeed," Charles chuckled. "One of the wealthiest men in Britain and eating lunch with a proper commoner."

They laughed and talked, the hours flying past them. By the end Frederick returned to his condo, 4 hours away, he had forgotten all about Anne Elliot and her dazzling freckles.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the first reviews on this new story! This is my other favorite classic novel, from the 1800s at least, so I wanted to try and do it justice. I need to acknowledge that I have no idea how the Navy works (esp. the ranks) but I thought it might be fun to keep their titles in the story, since a) the Admiral doesn't seem** ** _to_** **have a first name and b) Captain Wentworth was the name I fell in love with as girl.**

 **Also, I know I have fudged the medical requirements a bit in my story, but I really wanted her to be a Dr for plot reasons (bear with me).**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-V**

* * *

The local hospital wasn't so very large, and Jane remembered every inch from when she had spent all her time here when her mother was dying of inoperable brain cancer.

"Can I help you?" the nurse at the admin desk asked, and Anne smiled at her.

"I'm looking for Admiral Croft, he's a patient here?" Anne offered, holding up the flowers.

"Room 201," the nurse said, pointing to a corridor across the hall. "Visiting hours are from 8am to 12pm, then 2pm to 6pm."

"Thank you." Anne said, walking in that direction.

He had a private room, she saw when she approached, and she knocked on the door before entering.

"Come in," the deep, gruff – almost husky – voice said from inside. "Ah, you aren't the nurse." His eyes were sparkling, despite being hooked up with several monitors, or twinkling; like a young version of Santa Claus. His hair was perfectly white, including the mustache that was like a white fluffy cloud around his mouth.

"No, but I am a doctor." She offered, handing him the flowers.

"Hm," he mused, watching her. "You're a bit young…to be a doctor."

"I fast tracked through highschool," she smiled at him. "Started University at 16 on a scholarship."

"One of those geniuses then," he huffed as he pushed himself up. "My brother was like you, infuriating to play scrabble with."

Anne smiled as he took the flowers from her. "I'm not a huge fan of scrabble, so your safe from me."

He chuckled, smelling the flowers and closing his eyes with a contented look. "So where did you study?"

She was quiet for a moment, assessing the reason he was asking. "University of Bath, graduated just before my 19th birthday and came home to wait and hear the results for medical school."

"Which you got into," he mused, winking at her. "Full scholarship?"

Anne nodded, blushing. "Oxford."

"And just why would an Oxford graduate come to visit little old me? Hm? I'm just an old sailor with a touch of pneumonia."

"You're wife, actually." Anne replied, standing to look at monitors. "She has her heart set on renting out my family's house, and she mentioned you were here. I offered to check on you, and it helps I know the doctor treating you."

"Is he one of those geniuses too?" the Admiral asked, curious as to why she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at the information on the screen.

"No, unfortunately Anne got all the genes in the family," a voice spoke from the door. "Hello sir, how are you feeling this morning?"

He coughed, and then looked up at the man sweetly. "Dry lands, my lad, dry land. It doesn't agree with me legs."

"You had a small heart attack while trying to, what did your wife say, complete number 35 in the karma sutra?" the doctor smirked, flipping through a chart. "I didn't know you knew the Admiral, Anne – or that you were back in town."

"You're related?" the Admiral asked, not addressing the root of the problem.

"Cousins," Anne said softly. "Elliot you know very well that you just violated patient confidentiality, I should report you."

"I was out for a run," the older man huffed from the bed. "This young lad thinks it is a good joke that my wife is nearly ten years younger than I."

"So?" Anne questioned, narrowing her eyes at Elliot. "It's not within a doctor's ethics to embarrass a patient."

Mr. William Elliot was not a particularly nice man, but he was usually more charming than this – especially with patients. He was the closest thing Somerset had to a snake charmer.

Anne had always disliked her cousin, who was a good eight years older than her. He possessed all the traits of the stereotypical handsome man; tall, blonde, muscular – with a dazzling smile. But he always seemed like a social climber. Her father was a Lord, and not a very wealthy one in the grand scheme of things, but William Elliot always used his ties to her family to his advantage.

Anne was fairly certain he had bribed his way into medical school.

"Anne?" William was saying, smiling at her. "Did you dose off?"

"I was wondering why don't have him on a more appropriate course of treatment," Anne said frankly. "and why you haven't arranged a ECG. It's seems likely he has arrhythmia, or possibly a rup-

"Who's the practising doctor here?" Elliot interrupted her, grinning as he leaned into her personal space. "You've only just started. I think I know what's best for my patient."

She held his gaze and smiled thinly.

 _Prick_ , she thought, turning to face the Admiral.

"I'm meeting your wife soon, so I should probably head out," she extended her hand and was pleased to feel the firm, calloused handshake of the man on the bed. "I'll visit again soon."

"I'll hold you to that," the Admiral replied, winking at her.

* * *

"Freddy?" Sophie was speaking over the phone, looking at the woods surrounding the house. "It's amazing. Perfect. Of course I put my personal touch on it, but it is amazing. I really think this is the place I am to be right now."

"You have a weakness for Victorian era things, Soph."

"Har har, that was one auction – hardly enough to say I have a 'thing'." She replied, turning as the soft footfalls came behind her. "Anyway, I have decided that this is it. You can even room here, if you're nice to me."

"Ha, well turns out I am going to be staying nearby for a bit. It's like a 10 minute car ride."

"You are always trying to show me up," she whined, smiling at Anne as she brought out some lemonade. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know my decision!"

Hanging up, Sophie walked over to the small table and took a seat on one of the rustic chairs. "I was just letting my brother know what I decided about the place."

"Oh I wasn't going to ask," Anne spoke softly, offering the woman a glass. "That's your business."

"I didn't want to appear rude. My brother is forever saying that my lack of gallantry is not becoming," Sophie shrugged, sipping the drink. "Are you sure I can move in as early as three days from now?"

"Yes, absolutely," Anne stated with a curt nod. "I have the movers coming tomorrow to clear out the rest of the attic, but like I said, the furniture is yours if you want it and the rooms have been cleared out as well. I am going to stay with my sister in Uppercross for a week or so, in case you need anything."

"I am sure everything will be fine," Sophie grinned. "Will I get a chance to meet your father?"

Grimacing, Anne shook her head. "He's already left for Bath, took off last night with my sister and her friend from school…or work. I can't recall really – she's always here."

"And you aren't going to join them?" Sophie, for all her whims and vibrant energy, was very astute in being able to pick up people's emotions.

"No, it's been a few months since I have taken a break from work, so I decided to visit my sister and her family. Charles, her husband, is a long time friend. We went to the same University, and high school, and remained close. My sister has two little boys who I barely see, so." Anne shrugged and sipped her drink.

"Where does your sister live?" Sophie asked, ever curious about this successful woman.

"On a farm about 10 minutes away. I say farm, but it is a historic site now, so it's more of a large bed and breakfast…on acres." Anne offered lamely, not knowing how to explain it more than that.

"And will your boyfriend be joining you?" Sophia asked casually, taking another drink.

However, the woman across from her was un-phased by the question. "No, because he doesn't exist."

"Girlfriend?"

Anne laughed, shaking her head. "No. I'm single."

"Ah, well," Sophie giggled. "What a shame, a successful young woman such as yourself. Love is always an amazing thing to experience."

"I agree," carefully Anne chose her words. "But I really haven't had time."

"Well, luckily for you my brother is going to be staying nearby for a bit. I should introduce you, he's about your age – and very attractive." Sophie waggled her eyebrows and Anne couldn't help but laugh along with her.

"It's a nice thought, but really, I'm so extremely busy. I haven't even been home in eight years." Anne said, hoping to end the conversation in a passive way.

"Isn't that a coincidence!" Sophie exclaimed. "My brother has been out of the country for eight years too."

"Yeah," Anne felt the wariness return to her, and she suddenly wished to be anywhere than with this woman. "What are the chances."

"He's also single, and a workaholic," Sophie continued, not missing a beat. "When my husband is better, I will host a small party and you must come and meet him – if you don't see him around by chance."

"Oh," Anne smiled grimly. "I know it's a small word, but I doubt there is chance we will cross paths."

 _I hope_ , Anne thought, feeling like she was in Lad Russel's clutches once again. The woman was constantly writing her emails with eligible bachelor's bios.

"Ah well, worth a try. The man is desperately in need of a good woman," Sophie sighed. "Will you at least stop by for a friend? Me, I mean."

"Of course," Anne nodded, feeling relief flood her body. "I really liked the Admiral too. Why…is he called that, and not by his first name, if I may ask?"

"Oh, that's such a long story!"

That was all it took for the woman to launch into the tale of how her husband had been in the Navy for bit – a long while, or so it seemed - and then went on to run this yachting company in the Caribbean and the guests thought it was a hoot he actually held the title of Admiral.


	4. Chapter 4

Frederick arrived at Uppercross a day later than he intended, pulling into the drive way of the large house with not even an ounce of trepidation. He had originally intended on coming down last week, but he had a few things to attend to first – including officially indicating that he was going on vacation. So he was arriving on a Monday night instead of Friday night.

Charles had said that everyone in the family was eager to meet him, so not to worry about arrival time – and he didn't doubt it.

Most people did like to meet a millionaire.

Shutting off his little Audi A3, Frederick saw the shadows of the bodies at the large bay window and smiled. Charles had warned him that his two sisters were a bit young and excitable, and he had apologised in advance for his wife; who apparently lived off the society pages.

"Fredrick!" Charles called out, a light turning on above the front door as the man stepped out. "You made in time for dinner. Come in, come in!"

Welcoming the hug the shorter man offered him, Frederick stepped inside to see a many of different faces.

Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove, Charles' parents – he guessed- were bright eyed people who looked very similar to each other. He was tall, with blond hair, and plump, with rosy cheeks and a wide smile. She was short and plump, with white greying blond hair and a laugh that could make the unhappiest person smile.

The two girls were like night and day. Louisa was tall and slender, with long blond hair that looked like honey; bringing out the deep blue of her eyes. Henrietta was a cute girl, not even 17, with short curly brown hair and freckles over her nose; she reminded him of a pixie.

Also in the room was a face he had seen before, albeit much younger.

Mary Elliot was tall, with long straight black hair and creamy skin. Mary looked like a woman who had spent hours getting rid of any trace her body had carried a child, while looking feminine and fashionable at the same time.

 _She must have had been overjoyed,_ he though, _to get past the gangly teenage years._

"Frederick, my parents John and Catherine Musgrove," Charles introduced them, and Frederick was met with hugs – not hands. "My sisters, Lousia and Henrietta. And my wife, Mary."

Shaking Mary's hand, he felt his stomach drop into his shoes.

Mary Elliot was Charles' sister in law.

 _What are the chances,_ he thought, _that she is a different Mary Elliot?_

"Where is Anne, Charles?" Mr. Musgrove asked as the moved to the dining room.

"Oh," Charles looked sheepish. "You'll have to forgive me Frederick, you find me absent minded."

"Oh, everyone forgets about her anyway," Mary said dismissively. "She's taking care of my little boy tonight, he fell from a tree."

"You mean she's just sitting in your home all alone?" Mrs. Musgrove barked, looking at her son with a severe expression. "The girl hasn't been here five minutes and you two are treating her like the help!"

"She volunteered, Mom." Mary whined. "It's what she does, you know. Take care of people."

"We did not invite her to have to waste away in your home while we are all up here enjoying herself." Mr. Musgrove added softly. "You should have called us Charles, we could have set up the spare bedroom here for our grandson and Anne could be here with us."

"We can send food back," Henrietta offered, steering the conversation away.

"Anne Elliot?" Frederick asked, feeling as if this night was turning into a nightmare. "From Kellytch Hall?"

Mary suddenly brightened. "She's my sister! Do you know her?"

Everyone was watching him as he slowly nodded, making sure his eyes were on the ceiling as if he was thinking hard. "I…might. I was in this area many years age and I think I met a girl with the same name."

"There is only one Elliot family around here," Charles explained. "Well, there are your cousins, but they are all boys."

"Ah, so it is the same person then." Frederick mused, shrugging. "I barely remember her, I wonder why I thought of it."

Dirty blond hair set on a freckled face that was quiet, but hazel eyes always watching. The wind blowing her hair in every direction while she held his hand, trying not to choke on whatever she was drinking. The high-waisted bathing suit that brought out those curves as the waves crashed on her legs.

Yeah, he barely remembered her.

"Small world," Louisa said happily, clearly overjoyed about it. "She's my favorite in-law."

"And what am I?" Mary yelped, making them laugh.

"My sister, silly." Louisa huffed, as if it were obvious.

His mind turned to dinner as he tried to keep Anne Elliot out of his mind. Eight years, and fate had brought them together.

"So, Frederick, tell us about you! We've been talking long enough." Mrs. Musgrove offered, passing him mashed potatoes.

As he launched into chatting, he forgot all about being worried about meeting Anne Elliot.

* * *

Grabbing his suitcase, he made his way up the steps of the little cottage where he would be staying. He felt weary after the hours of being drilled about his hobbies and such.

Charles had said the doors were left open, so he simply pushed the door open and wandered wearily inside. Letting his bags hit the ground, he searched for a light when he heard something shuffle in front of him.

 _Ah,_ he thought grimly, _they have rats._

His fingers found the light, turning the old lantern styled lamp on, and froze.

Standing in front of him, armed with a fire poker, was Anne Elliot.

And apparently she felt as shocked as he did.

In the low light, she looked more like an angel than the wicked creature he had been making her out to be in his mind. Her hair was freakishly long, and her face was thin – too thin in places. She'd gotten thinner too, losing almost 80lbs, - if he had to guess; but she still wore big baggy pajamas. He'd loved her curves, and hoped her family's cruelty hadn't been the cause of this physical change.

Lowering the fire iron, she blinked at him as if she was looking at a ghost; but she didn't say a single word.

He didn't either, simply picked up his bags, turned around and walked out.

He hoped she was a hallucination.

A nightmare.

But most of all he hoped he could walk back into that room and wrap his arms around the women he couldn't forget.


	5. Chapter 5

_A hallucination,_ she thought as she listened to the sound of her footfalls on the ground, _it had to be. He's not here._

 _He's not._

 _He can't be._

 _It was a figment of my imagination._

 _I must have been still asleep._

 _I haven't been sleeping well._

 _I am ovulating, probably – so hormonal._

The thought made her grimace. "I must be losing it." She muttered, glancing down at her garmin – a fitness tracker half the size of her fist – that used GPS to track her mileage, and frowned. She had already gone five miles without realising it and it only.

Turning around abruptly, she started back to the village and her car. She wanted nothing more to pack up and drive away from this hellish experience.

Her normal early morning jogs were always so peaceful – usually. She could hardly count the miles with her thoughts in turmoil. Even the walk back was not as relaxing as she wanted it to be, her back felt more and more tense as she got closer to the site.

Wiping her brow with her sleeve, Anne felt the swish of her hair as it swayed with her movements. It, too, was normally a comfort.

"Anne!" Mary's voice called out, making her jump. Anne looked around and saw her sister's head sticking out of the window. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Anne retorted, glancing at her fitness tracker; telling her the time was only now 7am.

"I've been cooking breakfast, will you join us?" Mary was beaming and Anne felt an ill wind blowing her _away_ from the house.

"I haven't showered yet-

"None of us have! Come on, why do I cook breakfast?" Mary pleaded, and Anne groaned low enough for her sister not to hear.

Her sister was a terrible cook.

"Mary, really, I've only gone seven miles. I need to shower."

"Oh Charles and Frederick won't mind," she turned to face the indoors and yelled something out while Anne felt a shiver wash over her. "They say they don't mind."

 _This is a nightmare,_ she grimaced.

Forcing a smile, she made her way slowly to the house. Stepping in, she was greeted by her two nephews.

"Hey, now, Charlie, what did I say about walking on that ankle?" She said softly, but sternly. "You're lucky you don't have a concussion on top of that sprain."

"But I'm hungry." The boy pouted, making her sigh.

"What if I bring you breakfast, hmm?"

Her other nephew, Dennis, was trying to climb onto her back while all this was happening – making her internal self-scowl and say a number of bad words.

"Up!" the boy was saying over and over again.

"No," Anne said softly, bending down to the youngest child. "You do know what _no_ means, don't you?"

Pouting, Dennis nodded and stepped back; making Anne smile. As she stood, Anne looked over to the dining room to see a familiar pair of eyes watching her. She didn't know how to react and turned back to the children as Charles approached.

"Boys, don't be bothering your Aunt," he shooed them away, offering his apologies. "They do love to see you."

"Yeah, when we have to drive up to see you," Mary chimed as Anne walked to the table. "What kind of sister never visits?"

"The kind who is busy," Charles groaned, offering Anne a smile. "Perhaps Anne might visit more if she wasn't given doctor's duties every times she sees us."

"What good is having a family member in health care if they can't help you?" Mary retorted, putting the plates of food on the table. "Or attend you wedding, or the birth of your children?"

"Mary," Charles growled. "that's enough."

She shrugged.

 _She hasn't changed at all,_ Anne mused silently, raising her eyebrow at her plate.

"Just….fruit." Anne stated, looking at her sister then to the other plates filled with eggs, bacon and assorted things. "How…sweet."

"Well, I didn't think you wanted anything that will puff up your figure after you lost all that weight-

"Mary!" Charles barked, giving her a look of astonishment.

"It's alright Charles," Anne smiled softly, feeling Frederick watching her. "Uneducated remarks seldom bother me anymore. But, alas, I have food in my car. I think I fill find that more fulfilling." Standing Anne tried her best to just walk out of the house and not burst into tears.

It wasn't like Mary knew the reason she had dropped in weight – it certainly wasn't because her family hated how she wasn't slim.

Eight years ago she had suffered a miscarriage that killed whatever feeling she had left.

Frederick's baby.

Her baby.

The stress had also made her go crazy, she did eat for long periods of time and ended up being worked to death for school. She still wasn't thin or slender, and her BMI wasn't were it should be; but she was far healthier than it had been five years ago. She liked to think of herself like a modern day Marilyn Monroe – when she wasn't around her terrible family to remind her that she would never be _this_ or _that_.

Getting her to the cottage, she let out a frustrated growl as she wiped away tears.

 _I should never have come back here._


	6. Chapter 6

He didn't know _why_ he had expected her to look different in the light, but when Mary had called to her through the window, he caught sight of a woman he had once known.

When she walked into the house her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright from exertion. Her long hair swung down her back, catching the light, and brought out the traces of freckles she had left.

But she didn't look different. She still had dark circles under her eyes, and her clothes brought attention to how much weight she had lost – too much. But from his trained eye, he could tell that she was gaining it back.

It made him curious as to what could have made her lose weight so drastically. She had never looked "large" in the conventional sense – curvy, yes, but her body type had only benefited for it - but from her family's sort of view if she wasn't a supermodel she wasn't much to be proud of. But it had never phased her, or so he had thought.

And just as he thought it, Mary suddenly lashed into her for…not wanting to eat the six pieces of fruit given to her.

Frederick wanted to speak up for her, say anything that would defend her; but then she would just said nothing. As the pain flashed clearly in her eyes he was surprised to hear her rebuke her sister.

As she got up suddenly he just blinked at her.

He didn't understand it, any of it.

 _She ran away?_ He thought, taking a bite of sausage. The Anne Elliot he knew had never run away from a challenge.

Then again, the Anne Elliot he knew had wanted to be an artist.

 _Walking through the leaves that were early changers, her hair lay loose around her shoulders; her hand in his. They were talking about the future._

 _"_ _I think you should," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "I think you would be a great inventor. You have so many creative ideas."_

 _He felt that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, spreading through his body. Was this love?_

 _"_ _Well, I don't know about that," he said gently. "But if I follow my dream, you have to follow yours."_

 _"_ _Hm," she mused, leaning into his body space. "Being a professional violinist doesn't pay the bills though."_

 _He laughed, tucking his head nearer to hers. "You think being a sailor does?"_

 _He heard a small snort before he felt her kiss his cheek. "We can be wondrously poor together before you make it big."_

 _"_ _And have five children," he offered, hearing her giggle. "And seven dogs."_

 _"_ _No Gaston," she giggled. "How about 2 children and one dog."_

 _"_ _I think he wanted seven strapping boys."_

 _"_ _You're impossible."_

 _"_ _But you love me." he whispered, stopping, looking into those hazel eyes._

 _"_ _I do," she whispered back, smiling gently at him. "I always will." He grinned before she added. "but I am not having five children."_

"Sorry about that Frederick," Charles was saying softly, coming back to sit down. Anne was gone from the house, and Mary was munching on her bacon happily. "I'm sure she's ok."

 _Not like you are going to check,_ he thought unhappily.

"So, is she a nurse or something?" he inquired, curious to put together the pieces he still didn't comprehend.

"Doctor," Charles informed him, taking a bite of toast. "She's one of the youngest people through the program."

"Oh," he squeaked, before clearing his throat. "Huh."

 _Walking through the leaves that were early changers, her hair lay loose around her shoulders; her hand in his. They were talking about the future._

 _"_ _I think you should," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "I think you would be a great inventor. You have so many creative ideas."_

 _He felt that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, spreading through his body. Was this love?_

 _"_ _Well, I don't know about that," he said gently. "But if I follow my dream, you have to follow yours."_

 _"_ _Hm," she mused, leaning into his body space. "Being a professional violinist doesn't pay the bills though."_

 _He laughed, tucking his head nearer to hers. "You think being a sailor does?"_

 _He heard a small snort before he felt her kiss his cheek. "We can be wondrously poor together before you make it big."_

 _"_ _And have five children," he offered, hearing her giggle. "And seven dogs."_

 _"_ _No Gaston," she giggled. "How about 2 children and one dog."_

 _"_ _I think he wanted seven strapping boys."_

 _"_ _You're impossible."_

 _"_ _But you love me." he whispered, stopping, looking into those hazel eyes._

 _"_ _I do," she whispered back, smiling gently at him. "I always will." He grinned before she added. "but I am not having five children."_

"I still don't see that she had to leave to get her degree," Mary huffed, ignoring the look from Charles.

"What school did she go to?" Frederick asked.

"I have no idea," Mary said with a sigh. "She just up and left after the summer of 2008. Lady Russel had to hire a private dick to find her, and even then he wouldn't tell us specifics. Apparently he thought she needed her privacy."

"Some of us knew," Charles said softly. "But never thought about saying a word. Going through medical school on scholarship isn't easy."

Frederick nodded, eating his eggs. "I don't doubt it."

"Would you recognise her?" Mary questioned abruptly, tired of hearing her sister's praises. "If you didn't know she was my sister."

"She's so altered; I would not have known her again." Frederick replied, sipping some orange juice. He felt the guilt wash over him as soon as the words left his mouth – but Mary seemed satisfied.

He couldn't wait for breakfast to be over.

/

The day had gone in no time, and Frederick had been grateful for the tour of the farm and learning how everything worked. It was a large piece of land that they owned, and it was a fair amount of walking required to see the entire thing.

As dinner rolled around, he was greeted by the Musgrove's two eager daughters.

"So, how was your day?" Louisa asked, taking his arm and leading him toward the house. He didn't think she should have come to his little cottage, but chalked it up to youthful enthusiasm.

"Very nice," he replied, shutting the door behind them. "It's a beautiful property."

"I agree," Henrietta affirmed. "I can't image wanting to leave."

"That's because you're in _love_ ," Louisa giggled. "People in love never think of anything else."

Henrietta huffed and blushed, but did not reply directly. "Did you meet Anne?"

"I did," he left out the details of the morning. "Briefly."

"Did you love her?" Henrietta questioned, clearly excited to know the answer.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Louisa. "Of course he did, it's Anne. She's the best part of the Elliot family," turning back to Frederick, Louisa continued. "We all wish Charles had married Anne instead."

"He wanted to marry Anne?" He was genuinely surprised. "Did she wish to marry him?"

"Well," Louisa shrugged. "My parents think it was all Lady Russel's doing, my brother not being good enough for her taste."

"Was this before she ran away?" Frederick inquired innocently.

"After," Henrietta confirmed. "About a year before he married Mary. He was the only one who knew where she had gone, you know, wouldn't tell anyone where she was. I don't think Mary knows either."

There was this rumor," Louisa said gently. "We heard it in school a few years after Anne left."

"Lou!" Henrietta gasped. "We both agreed never to talk about it. Rumors are only hurtful."

"Oh come on Hetty," Louisa sighed. "It's just for a laugh."

He really wanted to know, despite how terrible a person it made him. "Who started the rumor?"

"Oh," Louisa shrugged. "I don't know; it was so long ago now."

"What was it about?" he asked, feeling suddenly nervous about what it was.

Was it possible she actually told them about him?

"Well," Louisa whispered, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "Some people think she left because she was pregnant."

He felt ill. His stomach churned. They had made love several times that summer. He had proposed to her that summer. Maintaining his calm persona, he asked. "Oh? She doesn't seem like the type."

"That's what we said," Henrietta interjected. "Anne's never had a boyfriend, so there is no way she was pregnant."

"Maybe," Louisa snickered. "Or maybe she had a lover and Lady Russel chased him away like she did Charles. I mean, she was 19. If she was pregnant, there is no way her family would support her. And she did just leave – no note, no phone call. Just packed her car and drove away at like," she made a motion with her hand as she thought. "3 am, if I remember correctly. She just left. There had to have been a reason."

A part of him was angry that they didn't know about his relationship with Anne. All these years she had kept him a secret. If the rumor was true, and a part of him believed it to be truer than the girls thought, he felt terrible sad.

 _There has been no mention of a child,_ he mused, _perhaps is a rumor after all._

"Maybe she did have a lover," Louisa continued. "Lady Russel would have driven him away, or at least persuaded Anne to end it."

"Do you really think she is so easily influenced?" He asked, he wanted to know why Lady Russel had been mentioned more than once.

"Well, Lady Russel is like her second mother," Louisa explained. "She was the one who encouraged Anne to go to University early. When she told her family, her dad did not approve of his child going into the arts. And she is a person with some pull in the world, after all."

He felt as if someone had kicked him in the chest.

 _Could that have been the reason why Anne suddenly ended things?_

"Either way," Louisa was still talking. "it was still pretty mysterious. I think if she did leave to have a baby, she's my hero. It would take guts to leave that family, and escape without serious mental trauma."

They all jumped as they heard footsteps on the gravel. Frederick felt his neck go a bit red as they saw Anne walking near them, passing them as they stood staring at her.

The girls fidgeted like their hands were caught in a cookie jar while he watched her carefully, the girls wouldn't notice.

Her eyes glanced over at him once, and he felt the redness grow into his cheeks.

She'd heard everything, he knew.

The worst part is that the emotion he caught in the depth of her eyes before she turned her eyes back to the big house and passed them.

He had never felt so small, not since the day she had broken his heart.

She'd been pregnant, he realised, and she never told him.

He had never felt so angry.

After all this time, Anne Elliot could still hurt him.

 _Perhaps,_ he mused, _it's her turn._


	7. Chapter 7

Anne hadn't even got through the door before being engulfed in hugs from the Musgrove's. It was hard not to smile when with them. She was more of a daughter to them than Mary ever was, which infuriated her sister but Anne wasn't about to change a thing.

"Anne! Bless my eyes it is good to see you," Mr. Musgrove beamed, stepping back to look at her. "You look a bit thin, are you eating enough? They aren't working you too hard in that big city job are they?"

"Oh Pa," Mrs. Musgrove sighed, pushing her husband out of the way. "Don't overwhelm the poor child just as she's through the door." Turning to Anne, she beamed. "I'm so glad you've come. We've missed you."

Catching her breath before the woman hugged her, Anne managed a chuckle before the air was squeezed out of her. "But you just saw me last Christmas."

"That was almost a year ago!" Mrs. Musgrove barked. "I wish you could get away more often."

"Well Ma, she's an all-important doctor now," her husband chimed. "She can't leave everything behind for a bloody picnic."

Anne chuckled and nodded. "Perhaps you can all come visit me abroad."

They blinked at her before immediately going into questions.

"What do you mean, abroad?"

"Where abroad?"

"Like America?"

"Or maybe the Bahamas!"

"Nothing is final yet," she managed to get out, shaking her head. "I will let you know when I hear back from them?"

"Oh, is that Anne?" a familiar voice rang, following the appearance of Sophie Croft. "I thought I recognized your voice. This is a nice coincidence. Is this where you sister is?"

Anne, feeling slightly trapped by her sudden presence.

"Oh Anne's been in the family for years," Mrs. Musgrove was quick to say. "She's my daughter in law's sister."

"Oh how nice!" Sophie grinned. "Freddy's my brother! You know, the one I told you about at the house, oh speaking of the house – I hope you don't mind if I turn on of the rooms into more of a workout centre."

"Not at all." Anne smiled back at the woman as she suddenly hugged her.

"Ah, Freddy!" Sophie chimed, into Anne's ear. "There you are! I wondered if you'd run away but here I see you with two girls on your arm. Really Freddy," she pulled back, shaking her head at her brother. "I thought you were sworn off all this."

Louisa and Henrietta looked from the woman to Frederick like deer in the headlights before bursting into giggles.

"What?" Mrs. Musgrove asked, looking from one to another. "Sworn off what?"

"Girls," Sophie explained, taking her brother into a hug. "Frederick is famous for saying he'd never have women on his ship, metaphorically speaking."

"What, never?" Mrs. Musgrove gasped, wide eyed.

"When a man has no wife, Sophie, he wants to be afloat again," a soft, gruff, voice answered from behind them. Anne was very pleased to see the Admiral looking well. He was dressed in a tux, and he looked very handsome. "When he's married, if Frederick goes abroad again, he'll be gratefully to _anybody_ who will bring him his wife."

Frederick smiled, looking as if the conversation didn't bother him, turning his eyes to Anne quickly before turning to others.

"Oh, mum!" Henrietta beamed, running into some other part of the house. "We have a navy list," she explained. "We should look you up!"

"They made me sent for it Captain!" Mr. Musgrove chortled, clutching his stomach as it giggled. "Truthfully," he whispered, leaning towards Anne. "I had to have Charles explain the Facebook to me so I could find the Captain's profile and picture."

Anne smiled gently, remaining mute. She had no reason to get excited about this – they were strangers after all.

"I wouldn't call myself captain," Frederick managed, holding up a hand in defense of himself. "Just Frederick is fine."

"I found your graduation picture!" Henrietta called, shifting the attention elsewhere. "It says it was taken in 2008, oh, so maybe not a grad photo?"

"Oh," Frederick huffed, blushing, as he looked at the photo. "That was when I was discharged, like a graduation photo. The same year I sold my first invention and used the money to become a coast guard."

"The Laconia, wasn't it?" Louisa asked, touching his arm.

Anne, who had been the last to make her way over, looked at the photo and internally was joyful. He looked so handsome in his photo.

"Ah, yeah, I think that was the nickname of the ship. How did you know that?" He asked, not looking directly at Louisa.

"My fault Freddy," the Admiral stated, rubbing his neck. "I might have let it slip. The men in the unit all joked that you left us for a woman."

"Yes well I had no woman, in the year '08." Frederick stated, with a smile, but with a voice gravely enough to make the two Musgrove girls swoon and Anne wish she was on another planet.

/

Dinner was about the same as the earlier encounter.

Only once did Frederick even look her way, and that had been earlier in evening. As he talked about his adventures, entertaining them all while waiting for Charles and Mary to arrive, the way he spoke made Anne very sure that he was entirely indifferent about her presence there. He made every effort to ensure that the group didn't know one another.

 _He doesn't care at all,_ she mused as she took a mouthful of mashed potatoes, _he has no lingering feelings._

The thought was sobering and chilling, for it meant that Lady Russell had been right all along.

"Anne, Mum mentioned you going abroad. You still considering DWB?" Charles asked, catching her off guard.

Swallowing, feeling everyone's eyes on her – except Fredericks – Anne nodded. "I've applied, but I am still waiting to hear from them."

"DWB?" Louisa asked, sipping her milk. "Debutants with bows?"

"Doctors without Borders." The Admiral stated, and she beamed at him.

"Did you look me up?" Anne asked, titling her head to look at him.

"Err," he growled, wiping something off his mustache. "No. Just seems like something you would do."

"Doctors without Borders?" Mary squawked, putting her wine glass down. "You don't really want to go to some developing country with all the Ebola-

"Mary," Anne sighed, shaking her head. "most of them _are_ developed. Besides, I have applied to work with women and children. I would prefer prenatal and postnatal care but I think you have to be a specialist for that."

"So would you be working with vaccinations then?" Sophie asked between mouthfuls.

"Probably, though I think I would rather work more on the trauma side. I do emergency work now, so it wouldn't be too different."

"Is there a reason you chose pre/post-natal?" Charles asked gently, not paying attention to his wife.

"Some of the women are victims of trauma, assault and a whole manner of other things. Risky abortions aren't as common in the area I want to go to, but they have a high rate of miscarriages."

"Do you have much experience with pregnancy?" Frederick inquired innocently, looking up at her from his food.

Anne felt the sting of his words acutely, she'd overheard the conversation between the girls – who were giggling - and Frederick. "Many women experience miscarriages before they even know they are pregnant. Some can have miscarriages well into the second trimester. Sometimes it is stress induced, other times it is physiological – like an ectopic pregnancy. Many mothers are alone, and the doctor is the only ally they have through the whole ordeal. Those who are fortunate enough to have a partner suffer through it with them, and depending on how many times they couple have lost a child they break up." Anne took a breath, looking over and catching a painful expression on Sophie's face. "The good ones can make it through."

"Sorry," Sophie sniffled, looking to her husband, who smiled. "I don't mean to cry. It just…"

"We wish we had had a doctor like you." He finished for her, reaching over and squeezing his wife's hand.

"Ah," Anne nodded, understanding immediately. "I'd be happy to recommend a specialist who is like me. I know him very well." She answered softly, offering the couple a genuine smile. She couldn't help but like them, despite them being related to Frederick.

"You seem to know a lot about it," Louisa probed, leaning forward. "Why is that?"

"Louisa!" Charles hissed. "Anne is a doctor; she'd trained to deal with these issues."

"There is no shame in it," Anne said flatly. "asking questions. Or losing a child. It's a burden that is indescribable, but one that is private. But gossip can only hurt oneself."

The heavy silence that followed was awkward, and the two girls were suddenly quiet.

"How are you going to find a guy if you fly away to a war torn area?" Mary huffed, rolling her eyes and changing the subject.

"I didn't realise that was a requirement." Mrs. Musgrove stated, bristling.

"Well I mean," Mary continued, unpassed. "Frederick was saying how he would never know Anne again, cause she's so ugly. Going to a foreign country to work even harder than she does here isn't going to help her looks is it?"

Anne was stunned. If the conversation before wasn't heavy enough, it was borderline disastrous now. Charles started choking and Frederick, she could have sworn, did as well.

"I didn't know you two knew each other." Sophie said gently, trying to redirect the attention away from the unkind comment.

"Your other brother, Edward, he was up here for a while when I was young," Anne explained. "I met Frederick briefly then, that summer. It was just before I left home for good, so there was no reason either of us would remember each other."

Sophie made a sound that was like a gurgle and then huffed. "So that is why Edward was so fidgety. It's a good thing your sister wasn't there."

Anne chuckled, thinking about her family. "It's probably good that Dad wasn't there either. He's even more vain than my sister."

"I didn't think it was possible," Mr. Musgrove laughed, as the atmosphere seemed to get better when he did so. "But it's true. Where did your parents decide to go to?"

"Bath." Anne replied, going back to her food. "My sister bought a townhouse there a couple of summers ago, so they will be staying there. I'm to join them, sadly, after my visit here is over."

"A big place, Bath." Mr. Musgrove eased her, winking at her.

"Aye, a great big place." Mrs. Musgrove added, nudging Anne gently.

/

After dinner came the part of the evening that Anne had always enjoyed: the games.

"Who's for Cards Against Humanity?" Louisa asked, digging out a long black box.

"I'm game," Henrietta chimed, followed by most of the guests. "But Henry said he might be stopping over soon, and he doesn't find it funny."

"Well Henry can get a sense of humor," Louisa snorted. "The boy's got a stick up his bum."

"Louisa!" Henrietta barked.

"What? It's true isn't it. He won't even kiss you in front of mum and dad."

As the banter went on, Anne wandered about the house; enjoying looking at the photo albums that now hung on the walls. The cute portraits of the boys, the evolution of the girls. Things she had missed but could envision as easily as her own memories.

It was when she found the violin case that she felt really nostalgic.

"Do you play?"

Jumping a bit, Anne let out a breath. "Admiral, you scared me." He smiled apologetically and she nodded. "I dabble."

"Care to play something for an old man?" he inquired with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Pfft," Anne scoffed. "I will play for a friend, but only if you stop saying that you're an old person."

"I will take that deal."

Taking the violin out of the case, Anne easily tuned it and placed it in the proper position. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she started to play. She had memorised a few of Paganini's concertos, in addition to some Vivaldi.

Truthfully, she practised every night and volunteered to play for the sick children in the hospital. It was as rewarding as her day to day work.

A few minutes later she finished the song and opened her eyes. Everyone had gathered, to her surprise, and were listening. Except Louisa and Frederick.

"Anne? Oh no, she doesn't drink or party at all. She doesn't do anything social much, and her hair is never down. She's quite given that up."

"Never?"

"Yeah, I didn't think she played the violin still either. Charles never said anything about it."

"Why would he?"

"He goes up and visits her all the time."

"Does she still paint?"

"Who?"

"Anne."

"I didn't even know she painted. Wait, that's a lie, she did this big portrait of Dad for his birthday a few years ago."

Anne assumed that they hadn't expected the song to end so early and the cover for the conversation being lost before they could finish. She caught the Admiral's gaze and flushed at the knowing look he held in his eyes.

Somehow she knew that he couldn't be fooled, and the curve of his lips as he studied her was enough to make her warm and fuzzy on the inside and still be completely terrified that he knew the truth.


	8. Chapter 8

Frederick sat in another awkward silence as everyone shuffled back into the family room to start a round of cards against humanity. Carefully sipping his wine, he had to fight past his instincts to go and rip Anne's hair from its constraints; he had so loved her hair long and down on her shoulders.

Louisa was a fountain of information, and he didn't even have to flirt hard (or at all) to find out the information he sought – and didn't seek at times too.

But dinner had left a bad taste in his mouth.

Throughout all of the conversations Anne had remained calm and seemingly unaffected. She participated minimally here and there, obviously more focused on listening. But she smiled and laughed with them.

He had been growing so frustrated when Charles brought up her interests abroad. It didn't seem like her at all. Anne never took risks, hated adventure – unless it was with him – and was here talking about flying away to another country – countries.

But his plan about asking about pregnancy backfired. He felt like a child who had been caught hitting an innocent classmate. He, by rights – in his mind – should have been entitled to news about her pregnancy. But as she explained why she wished to work with the women in foreign countries, he felt the guilt rising in his throat like bile.

He'd judged her for keeping his child from him when he'd never considered that she'd lost it – alone on top of all of it. The sting of her words to Louisa felt like a slap meant for him saying: _who are you to judge me, I have survived_ alone _and lost what is most precious to me. Look at yourself._

Anger, of course, had swelled.

 _She didn't have to be alone_ , he thought bitterly, _it was she who sent me away._

The little voice in the back of his head spoke meekly and honestly.

 _Would you have even taken a call from her then?_

The answer was no, of course, but it didn't ease his discomfort.

And then Mary had gone and repeated what he had said earlier that day, making him out to be childish and cruel.

He'd seen the look flash across her face, followed by a reserved reply and his sister coming to the rescue.

Taking another sip of wine, Frederick moved aside as Louisa snugged closer to him. She handed him his set of cards, chatting away about the rules as if he didn't know them, but he was distracted but Anne yet again.

Now he noticed the lines of worry around her eyes, and how the shadows hid them. She wore no makeup, and whether or not the rest of them understood her message earlier, he understood why they were there. His sister had suffered numerous miscarriages trying to conceive, and had long since given up hope.

He couldn't imagine facing that alone, and with family to support her.

"Freddy," Sophie was saying. "It's your turn. Put a card in."

"Sorry Soph," he muttered, looking at his cards. He threw in the best one and leaned back, determined not to look over at Anne Elliot again, though the haunting tune of the violin lingered in his ears.

She'd kept practising, that much was clear.

"Whose card is this?" Henrietta asked, holding up the wining card.

"Mine!" Louisa squealed, making him jump.

He sighed and nudged her gently. "Nice one."

"Thanks," she smiled back, giving him _the_ eyes. "Maybe I can get a prize if I win." She whispered, making him smile apprehensively. Glancing over at Anne, she was lost in conversation with Charles. "A kiss maybe?"

He looked back at Louisa and grinned, leaning closer to her ear to say his response. "And maybe more."

/

"That's not fair, if Lou gets a kiss, I should too." Henrietta barked, jumping to her feet.

"We should all get one Captain," Mrs. Musgrove teased, pulling on his shirt so that his lips met hers. "Whoo! Come and get 'em girls!"

"Ma! Your drunk!" Louisa giggled in her drunken stupor.

Frederick, not wanting anyone to be left out, kissed Henrietta next; followed by Mary. He kissed his sister and turned to Anne, who was watching them all quietly, completely sober.

Stepping forward, he shrugged. "Cheek ok?"

"Give her a real kiss!" Sophie called out.

"Kiss, kiss, kiss!" Henrietta was chanting, and the others, minus Louisa at this point, chimed in.

Bending down in a fluid motion, bringing her chin up with a gentle touch of his fingers under her chin, he captured her lips in his; and he knew instantly it was a mistake.

She tasted like peppermints, she'd been eating them all night, and her lips were as soft as all his memories of her had been. He wanted to get drunk on this feeling, be it the wine or sexual desperation.

The worse of it was that she responded subtly, he doubted anyone else noticed.

She pulled away first, turning to face the cheers of the others as he regained his senses.

He laughed and walked back over to a stumbling Louisa, whispering nothing coherent into her ear. When Louisa kissed him, it was full of youthful exuberance, it was nothing to having Anne in his arms.

"Do you have to go so soon?" Mrs. Musgrove asked, clearly in response to something someone had said.

"It's nearly one in the morning Mumsy," Anne replied gently, kissing the woman good night. "And I get up at 4:30 usually. I'm exhausted. But this was fun."

"You will come to dinner tomorrow?" Mr. Musgrove asked, getting Anne's coat.

"Sure," she nodded.

Frederick stepped closer. "I can walk you back to you cottage, it's near mine."

"Thanks Frederick," Charles mumbled in a haze. "You don't mind, do you?"

"I think I should be the one supervising," Anne announced, looking at Frederick carefully. "With all you've had to drink."

"I'm fine," he insisted, opening the door. "After you!"

He listened to the chorus of goodbyes, kissed Louisa goodbye – it was more of her grabbing a hold of him – before heading down the steps after her.

Managing to stay in a straight line as he walked, he looked up at the stars. He found himself strangely mute and unamused at her shepherding him.

"This is your stop," Anne finally said, gesturing to his cottage. "Hello?"

"I'm listening," he replied, looking at her finally. "I'm fine. You don't have to walk me home."

"You had an entire bottom of vodka, not to mention the wine." she countered, her face unchanging. "I'll see you inside."

He shrugged, climbing slowly up the steps with her behind him. As he fumbled with the key – which some part of him knew he didn't need – he groaned in frustration.

"Here," Anne offered, reaching past him to touch the door handle.

"I don't need your help," he grumbled, swinging arm out to stop her. He felt the impact of his arm on her rib cage and immediately felt his reflexes fail him as she let out a small sound of alarm as she was knocked off the staircase. "Bloody hell, I'm so sorry." Jumping down beside her, he saw her hand clasping her ankle, pain across her face.

 _What have I done?_

"It's fine," she was saying, batting his hand away. "Frederick, I'm a Doctor. I'll be fine. Go inside."

The tone of her voice told him to stop, he'd never heard her sound so cold.

"At least let me wrap your ankle." Frederick offered, touching her face instinctually.

"Just go inside," she huffed, standing on her own. Tears were welling in her eyes and it made his stomach clench. "Goodnight."


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for such a long time in between, my school year has been running me literally to the bone. I shall try to do as much as I can this summer. Thank you for still reading it!**

* * *

"Come and walk with us!"

It had been such a simple request from the two Musgrove's, one Anne couldn't refuse. Despite her throbbing head and ankle, Anne was dressed for the chilly morning weather in some black jogging pants and a burnt red puffy vest.

The promise had been of a short walk around the area, which didn't seem so bad with a few extra strength Advil in her stomach. However, upon coming across – which was ultimately not such a surprise to the girl's – a shirtless Frederick competing with Charles in some strange fitness competition, the walk was somehow widened to encompass the entire day plus about 3 more people.

It was after hour two that Anne regretted even stepping out of her front door. The group was traipsing around one of the Musgrove fields when Mary pointed out that they were in some local park – conveniently owned by Charles' aunt before she had it donated for historical significance.

"Well, if we are this far," Charles was saying. "We aunt to call on my aunt. Maybe grab some lunch."

"It's another 3 miles!" Mary chittered, unheard over the chorus of the girl's.

"Can we make it a picnic Charles?" Henrietta asked, almost jumping out of her shoes.

"There is a great spot by the trees, about a mile away from the farm." Louisa chirped, before going off about exactly where they could go.

Anne, feeling the pain return to her ankle around the fourth mile or so, was leaning up against a tree with her eyes closed. The whole walk she had been trying not to think about Frederick expression last night, or that he had been the cause of her current ankle problems. He hadn't even made eye contact today, but his touch was practically burned into her flesh. It had taken a great deal of willpower to not touch him back, or rest her head on his shoulder.

 _Why can't I hate him?_

 _After all this time, he makes my knees go weak._

She could hear Louisa giggling, saying something in low tones – and the memory of them kissing rushed to her mind.

 _He's such a fool._

"Are you coming Anne?"

Opening her eyes slowly, holding a hand up to the light, Anne smiled gently at Charles. "Where are we going?"

"A few of us are running ahead to visit my aunt –'

"Heddy?"

"That's right," Charles grinned. "Mary, Frederick and Louisa are headed up to that mossy grove overlooking the farm. Want to come with me or head up with them?"

"She's obviously coming with me," Mary snorted. "There is no chance of me being left with a nineteen year old for more than a few minutes."

"Mary," Charles started, letting out a defeated sigh. "Don't you think Anne can decide for herself?"

 _Anne can,_ she mused, _however my ankle can't make it to the farm and back._

"I'll just plod along with Mary, Charles. We can play I Spy."

Mary let out a disgusted groan and Anne crinkled her nose at Charles before he turned and trotted after Henrietta.

Louisa linked arms with Frederick, waving at them to come along. "We'll lead the way, after all Frederick has never been here before."

"Who do you he'll pick, Anne?" Mary asked, the second the two 'lovebirds' were out of earshot.

"I'm sorry, but what on earth are you talking about?" Anne scoffed, hoping she seriously wasn't suggesting a union between either a sixteen-year-old or a nineteen-year-old with her ex.

"Frederick and the girls. He seems very intent on them."

"He is old enough to have a daughter their age!" She couldn't keep the distain out of her voice.

"So?" Mary huffed. "I met Charles at 16."

"You didn't marry him then. And I know you were 18 before you even considered sleeping together. Thank god."

"Just because you're an old spinster doesn't mean people around you can't be happy," Mary concluded, oblivious to the look on Anne's face and the blatant eye roll that had been directed at her. "I am for Henrietta, but Charles thinks Louisa. Both of them would be good matches for him. He's wealthy, so they wouldn't have to work –

"Mary!" Anne barked, stopping in her tracks.

"Everything ok?" Louisa called from ahead, hand to head to avoid the sun to her eyes.

"Fine." Mary called back, offering a fake smile and a wave.

"I can't believe you." Anne huffed, shaking her head. "I knew you were vain, but what the fuck is wrong with you."

"Why should there be anything wrong with me?" Mary asked, shrugging. "I'm only being prudent. Do you really think I didn't consider how much Charles was worth before I married him? I knew that I needed a man who would keep me happy and keep my accustomed to a certain lifestyle."

Anne growled, putting her hands into the pocket of her vest. She'd left her hair long this morning, and barely brushed, so it was hanging tangled around her face as they walked: sweat dampening the ends.

 _And here I wondered why I had never come back._

"So, who do you think?" Mary persisted, grabbing her sisters arm.

"For all I care he can marry a French poodle."

That marked the end of the conversation as Anne purposely fell behind, fuming silently.

* * *

When she caught up to the group, Mary was sitting in the sunlight by the edge of the grove while Louisa and Frederick were no where to be seen. It was a bit of a relief.

Choosing a log, Anne sat gingerly, very aware of throbbing in her ankle.

 _Damn, I think I've gone too far. I should have turned back hours ago._

"Mary is so like her father and sister, it isn't even funny," a hushed voice seeped through the trees behind her. "I don't know why Charles married her, he would have been happy with Anne. We all would have been _much_ happier."

There was a significant pause.

"Did Charles want to marry Anne?"

"Oh yes."

"Did he ever ask her?"

"I think so. He doesn't talk about it much, but I am pretty sure it was roughly a year before he started dating Mary."

Another pause. "She refused him?"

"My parent think it was Lady Russel's doing, being as she was sort of a second mother to Anne. There were rumors, of course, about Charles asking her to marry him because she was pregnant, but a rumor is a rumor."

"Lady Russel is a close friend of the family."

"Too close. I heard from a few village lads that when Anne disappeared that only Lady Russell knew where she had gone. There were more rumors, of course, about an abortion and things, but nothing that ever suggested there was anything more to it than just Anne leaving," Louisa huffed. "I would never let myself be talking into or out of anything. I pride myself on being my own person."

"It is a good quality, being sure of yourself." Frederick replied softly, though he seemed far away now.

 _Through the trees._

"Oh, I don't want you thinking I dislike Anne at all. I think it's marvellous what she's done. Leaving everyone she's ever known and hightailing it to somewhere, with that toxic family of hers?" Louisa made a noise that was indiscernible. "I'm not sure I could do that."

"Neither can I, to be honest."

"Well, your situation's a bit different. Mine is too. If Anne had grown up with a really loving family, I don't think it would be this way. Her living so far away and never visiting, I mean."

"And she'd be your sister in law."

"Well, possibly. Lady Russell would still be around, wouldn't she?"

"Yes," Frederick replied, followed by a _very_ long pause. "Yes she would be."

As they came into the grove, rounding the nearest group of trees to Anne, Frederick's eyes went straight to Anne's – and for a moment, their anger and discontent clashed in utter silence, far away from the people around them.

"I see Charles!" Louisa announced, leaping forward with all the energy of a girl just going into adulthood.

Tearing her eyes away, Anne absently touched her ankle as she debated if it was worth standing up to greet her brother in law. _His_ eyes were still watching her, and her face tingled where his touch had been – but it felt more like she had been slapped. Perhaps betrayed.

She just wasn't sure who by.


	10. Chapter 10

Frederick fought off the urge to storm away and jog back to the house as the group headed slowly back to the house. The girls were chittering away about some revelation regarding Henrietta's potential boyfriend in her cousin. Mary, not to anyone's surprise, was unhappily holding onto her husband – complaining of being too tired to continue.

He had slowly been drifting to the back of the group, careful not to seem purposeful about his actions, moving towards Anne. He knew she must have been tired, her ankle sore – he caught the slightest wince in her facial expressions he knew the others would never have noticed.

Not a single word of complaint, not a moment of criticism for his actions – nothing. She hadn't let on that she'd heard his conversation earlier, but he knew she had – he could feel the depth of her emotions bubbling away inside her.

"Ah, well met!" he called out, waving to his sister and the admiral, as a small cart bounced down the road.

"God, that old thing," Mary grumbled. "I thought Dad destroyed it long ago."

"It's good to see it out once more," Anne said softly, approaching the horse once the cart had stopped. She was limping slightly, and the guilt rose in his throat once again. "What made you get it out?"

Sophie, who was beaming, merely shrugged. "I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to ride in one, honestly. It's bumpy, but it's fun."

"It's been good to get behind a horse again," the Admiral said softly, looking over them all.

"I bet," Louisa grinned. "We've all been walking from the house to our aunts."

"How aren't you all tired?" Sophie exclaimed, looking at her seat with a flash of thought. "Come on, I can give someone a ride home."

"Anne is tired," he heard himself say. "Can you give her a lift Sophie?"

"Of course I can!" Sophie grinned, offering a hand out to the woman.

"We could take all of you," the Admiral offered, pressing up against his wife to make room. "If we were all as fit as Anne."

As the laughter trickled through the group, the Admiral patting his belly gently, he approached the cart.

Anne, who had merely blinked in his general direction, looked like she was going to cry if she took another step.

"Hold on," he whispered, putting his hands on her waist. "lean on me, can't have that ankle hurting any worse."

"I'm fi-" she started to protest, but he had her on the seat before the words could be uttered.

"Bye!" the girls called out, waving as the horse trotted down the road – happy to be out of the stable.

As he watched, he saw Anne reach up and take her hair tie out, those long flowing locks bouncing in the air as she moved away from him. The admiral said something funny, Sophie's laughter trailing on the wind as a long-forgotten feeling crept into his heart.

 _Turn back._

 _Turn back and look at me._

 _Turn back._

/

The rest of the walk was uneventful. With Anne gone, the colours around seemed dull – the people boring. It shamed him to think that seeing her once again, for such a short time, would transform him mind into that of a boy's again.

"I can't believe she's leaving so soon," Henrietta said quietly, looking unhappily to the sky. "I wish there was a way to keep her here longer."

"Who's leaving?" Frederick asked, suddenly aware of the conversation around him again.

"Anne," Charles said with a sigh. "She's to go to bath to visit her family, then she's off to – who knows where. She leaves in two days."

"Didn't she just get here?" Frederick asked gently.

"Yes," Mary grumbled. "She's never here when I need her. I always feel ill. She could set up a small practice here and help take care of me."

Stifled giggles from the girls made everyone – but Mary – smile.

"It's still sad though," Louisa pipped up. "It would be nice to spend more time with her before she jets off forever."

"Well," Frederick hesitated, now that several eyes were on him like wolves to sheep. "I was planning to visit a friend over in Lyme tomorrow, and stay for a few days. We could make a trip of it."

"Could you convince Anne to come along?" Louisa had turned to Charles. "I've always wanted to go to Lyme, and I think Anne could stand for a few more days vacation. Please Charles!"

"Alright, alright," he laughed, holding up a hand in defeat. "I'll ask her nicely. But she does have a life of her own you know."


	11. Chapter 11

Anne sat, biting into her toast with the family eyeing her with hope. They had explained about Lyme, and begged – and begged – her to come along.

 _It won't put your vacation that much over._

 _Please come with us, it's only a short drive away._

 _Come Anne, who knows when we might see you again._

"You're staring." She muttered through a half mouthful of food.

"We're waiting." Charles chuckled. "What do you say Anne? A small road trip with good company-"

"Charles," Anne sighed, putting the toast down. "I have to get back to the clinic, and I still have to head up to Bath and visit there before –

"You never were that adventurous were you." Frederick muttered into his coffee.

"It sounds lovely." She said quickly, her eyes darting to meet his with startling grit. "How are we getting there?"

"You can go in the Audi," Charles offered, "the four of us can fit in my land rover no problem. Do you mind Frederick, driving with Anne?"

"Not at all." Frederick said as nonchalantly as a man could.

"It's settled then." Anne replied, standing. "When do we leave?"

"An hour," Frederick replied, setting the coffee down. "That work for you Miss Elliot?"

"Perfectly." She smiled sweetly, trying to swallow the feeling that he had just set her up.

/

Thankfully Lyme was only 17 miles away. She had expected silence in the car, but to her great surprise, he was somewhat chatty.

"How's your ankle?"

"Sore, but I'll live."

"That's good."

A small amount of silence.

"I'm-" they both started, then laughed a bit at each other.

"Go ahead, Anne." He used a soft tone that made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

 _How long have I yearned for that voice._

"I haven't had a chance to congratulate you on your success," she started, reaching over to turn the music down. "I'm very glad to see you so successful Frederick. You deserve it."

This silence was different, lighter.

"That's…thank you. I," he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you had to go through it alone."

She felt the flush on her cheeks, and looked down at her hands. "It was a long time ago, Frederick."

"Not for me," he spoke in such a low voice that it hurt to hear it. "and I suspect not for you, either."

She let the silence linger for a minute or two, trying to straighten out her thoughts. "Somethings you can't forget."

He looked at her so softly then she wanted to jump from the car at that very moment and run back to Uppercross.

"We're here," she nodded, looking at the confirmation information on his phone. "It's that one there."

A few people waved at his car and she felt like the world around her was shrinking again. Though fear of what these new folks knew about them both, they also evoked warmth and love from their expressions.

 _Perhaps Lyme won't be so bad after all._


	12. Chapter 12

**Alright, so I have been debating this chapter a lot since it is something that I planned for since the start - however, Idk if I like where it puts the characters and such. BUT I do have some readers and I am putting it up to you guys. Please read this and see if it is a reasonable or good chapter in their stories - if not, I will delete it! Cheers friends.**

* * *

As Anne stepped out of the car, she felt the vibration of her phone and stepped away from the group. Pulling the device out, she smiled at the sight of the name popping up on the screen.

"Hi Lottie, how's everything going?"

 _"_ _Good. How's Lyme?"_

"It's nice. I love the sea."

 _"_ _Speaking of people that love the sea…"_

Anne looked up the clear blue sky and sighed. After so many careful years of hiding herself and her secrets away, a strange feeling crept over her that said – all must out!

"Oh?"

 _"_ _Hattie misses you, Anne. Can't you swing by for a day?"_

"She isn't having fun with Dani?"

 _"_ _She is, she is. But she misses her mom. This is the longest you've been away from her since – well, since you miscarried."_

"Yeah," Anne sighed into the phone. "I didn't drive my car here, we all carpooled. Or else I would just come up."

 _"_ _Would it really be so bad if I drove her up for a few hours? Your dad and sister aren't there, so that secret is safe from them."_

"You forget I am with my other sister. One very short phone call away and I can't imagine what horrible things they will manage to say."

 _"_ _Ugh. Right. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have called if she wasn't really insistent. She's too smart for her own good."_

"That she is," Anne let the smile ease onto her lips. "Why don't you drive down later today? Everyone is going out for dinner at a friends of Frederick's, so I can sneak away and we can go to the beach."

 _"_ _Oh that sou- wiat. Frederick? Like_ that _Frederick? As in…"_ the voice went into a whisper on the other side of the phone. _"Hattie's dad?"_

"Hm. This visit has turned into a small nightmare."

 _"_ _Does he know? About everything?"_

"Apparently there was a rumor when I first left that I had a child, but I left it as miscarriage. No one needs to know."

A snort from Lottie made Anne smile. Best friends through school, the women who called the 112 number to rush her to the hospital when it was clear something was very wrong.

 _"_ _So you lied?"_

"No, I _did_ have a miscarriage. I lost one baby and another survived. It's not my fault I was too young to understand that I was so far pregnant when it happened, you _know_ I had no idea when the doctors told me. The whole drama of it all is exactly why I need to hide it all from these people. Hattie has been able to grow up with no emotional scaring from my family."

 _"_ _Yeah, and she is a wonderful little girl Anne. But a kid needs a dad. Look at me, when Harry died, I thought-_

"You guys were married, Lottie. You were also like, high school sweethearts with a baby and a loving family by the time you turned 18. I was two years younger than you and lucky to have you guys feeding me when I thought I would starve."

 _"_ _Fine. But I'll tell her we are taking a road drip. My nurse can drive us up. Ok?"_

"Don't do anything too risky, ok?"

 _"_ _I'm fine! You are such a mom."_

"Bye Lottie."

 _"_ _Bye!"_

Anne stared at the phone for a few moments before slipping it back into her pocket. As she approached the crowd of people by the cars, she felt their eyes on her.

"Everything ok Anne?" Charles asked, stepping aside.

"Oh yeah. Just a friend called to see how I was handling the vacation." She replied with a small smile. He knew, of course, and was the only person she truly trusted to keep the secret. Plus, he had stumbled into the whole thing by accident – and then begged to let him help her when he could. "She's driving down, so I won't be able to come to dinner."

"She would be more than welcome," said a man, otherwise known as Captain Harville. "My wife and I love entertaining."

Anne shook her head. "I won't impose, -

"The more the merrier." Louisa beamed. "Anyone you know would be welcome anywhere."

"I thank you very much for the offer," Anne spoke gently, but sternly. "I-."

"Of course you can," Mary cut her off, in a manner that said – no arguing, it's happening. The Elliot way. "Any sister of mine is welcome. After all, our father is a Lord, why shouldn't you attend these gatherings."

Anne groaned, wincing. "Oh Mary."

"Well, any friends of Frederick's are welcome in our house. I hope you do come, we will set an extra place or two at the table."

"Four." Anne conceded, holding up her hands. "Lottie- Charlotte – has to have her nurse with her, and she's bringing two children with her."

"Four places then," Harville beamed. "Come then, we can walk to our house from here."

Anne nodded numbly, as people started to set off, instinctually taking Frederick by the arm and pulling him back. He eyed her quizzically, though he stayed.

"Walk with me? There is…something you should know."

He raised an eyebrow and agreed, telling Harville he'd catch up later.

* * *

"What is it that is so important?" he asked as they walked along the beach.

"Everything," she sighed. "I hope that you understand why I haven't said anything, especially here – with Mary around."

"Is it that bad?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Not bad, _exactly,_ " she mused, stopping to face him. He looked concerned, a flashback to his old self. A younger, happier time as well – for them both. "When I left the city, it's true, I was pregnant – but I didn't know it. I did miscarry, but,"

"There is a but in that sentence?" he interrupted, narrowing his eyes.

She sighed again, wrapping her arms around her self. "It was….not an easy time. I know this is knew for you, but you have no idea how hard it was. I had _no one_ when I was rushed to hospital, I didn't understand that I would be pregnant – let alone with twins."

"Twins?" he uttered softly, taking a step back. "Holy-"

"I lost one baby, I was lucky I didn't lose both." Anne said quickly, just trying to get the words out as her voice broke. "She was placed in an incubator for the longest time. And I, had to come to understand that I had lost as much as I had gained."

She watched as the emotions rippled across his face. She understood, she'd felt the same things ages ago. She'd been bedridden for a while, crying over the lost child that she didn't know she had. Trying to understand how she was to take care of a child, pay for the medical bills – feed herself, let alone a baby. The long nights, studying, coming to the hospital late to just watch the baby breath in the incubator.

She'd fought for everything she now had.

She wasn't going to lose it now.

"Anyway, she hasn't been away from me for very long, and she Lottie is driving her down. I have no idea if you want to be a part of her life, but you will get to meet her. This isn't how I want to do this, but since everyone wants so badly to have dinner together – it was now or never."

He didn't say anything, and she had to look away. Whatever he thought of her, she had a responsibility to that little girl to keep her safe. To make sure she was loved.

She didn't own anything to anyone, except to that little girl.

"Are you going to take her overseas with you when you go?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"I haven't gotten that far," she replied. "I still have to uproot her, wherever I go."

There was a long silence, and she shut her eyes. There was nothing she could do now, whatever his reaction, the truth was out there for those who needed to know.

"Where you ever going to tell me?"

Opening her eyes, she locked gaze with him. "I tried to. I called you, many times, but your number was disconnected. All these years later, I doubt someone calling to say they had your child was going to get far in the mass of messages you get everyday. I never thought we would ever meet again, so I had given up pretending that you cared."

He nodded slowly, putting his hands in his pockets before removing them and stepping towards her, wrapping her in a hug. It surprised her more than she could say, but she hugged him back as fiercely as she was capable of.

"I'm sorry you went through all that alone," he whispered, shutting his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"I'm sorry you had to learn this way," she whispered back. "I'm sorry for everything."

He nodded, resting his head against hers. "What was the other baby's name?"

"Alistair."

They stood there for so long, she forgot the world outside was out there. They both pulled away at the same time, wiping tears from their eyes. She smiled gently, as she pulled out her vibrating phone.

"Hi Duck, you on the road with Aunt L?" she locked eyes with Frederick one more time, still somewhat shocked he had responded with such warmth. "Mhm, I am very excited to have ice cream with you. And there is someone I want you to meet. Mhm, love you too duck."

Hanging up, she offered a slight smile. "They'll be here in an hour."


	13. Chapter 13

As they walked along the beach, Anne telling him things about her daughter – his daughter.

He had so wanted to be angry with her. Not screaming and shouting, but that sort of fiery, gut wrenching anger that made one cry for the sheer force of the emotions. Instead, all he had was an unending feeling that he had thought was long vanished. Once upon a time he had been angry, hurt was the more truthful emotion but he had no time for it.

The feeling he now felt was so strongly love that it ached in his soul. He had spent so long being angry, and feeling sorry for himself, that he had never considered what she would have been going through. Granted, he also spent a good portion of that time feeling sorry for himself too.

As she soon before him, explaining, he saw another transformation of Anne Elliot – the very one that had made the beautiful woman before him shrivel into a hollow shell of what she once was. The sorrow in her voice, the acute suffering that came out in wrinkles by her eyes, made his stomach hurt.

All that time, she'd been in such a terrible situation.

All this time, he'd being trying to convince himself that he didn't love her.

"Do you want to change?" he asked, suddenly aware he looked very casual in his shirt and jeans. She looked casual, but she wore a large baggy sweater that looked warm and cozy. "Should I change?"

Anne studied him for a moment before shaking her head. "Maybe a sweater if you think you might get cold, but you shouldn't worry about that. You look fine."

He mentally wondered if that meant she thought him handsome, perhaps even without a suit and tie – she'd known him in the days when he practically lived in baggy t-shirts and jeans.

"Any advice?" he asked after a pause, running a hand through his hair. "Before meeting her?"

"She really loves grilled cheese," Anne offered. "And maple ice cream."

"Ah, my favorite," he grinned at her, and she smiled back. "Are they meeting us at the hotel?"

"Rats," Anne groaned, pulling out her phone as she dialed the number. "Lottie? Hi, sorry I forgot to tell you the address."

* * *

The car that pulled up was average, a little SUV type, but the smiling facing in the windows made him smile. The backseat of the car opened the second it stopped, and he caught himself grinning as Hattie stepped out of the vehicle.

The little girl was no more than 7 and a half, with a mass of wild dark brown curls that were like his own. Big brown eyes and a face full of freckles expressed everything she thought so clearly – the grin as large as can be, the twinkling in her eyes with excitement at seeing her mom.

Clumsily she ran, a small backpack bouncing on her back as she dashed towards them. He felt every fiber of his being surge into overdrive. This little creature was happy and bright, clearly loved and well cared for – and at the same time he could see the fragility in her small frame, the vulnerability of a pair of people.

He was very uneasy about having them both exposed to the friends he had just made - he understood exactly why Anne had chosen not to tell her family.

"Hattie," Anne said softly, after she had given her child a firm hug and spin in the air, turning Hattie towards him gently. "I want you to Frederick, he's a very old friend."

"Hello Hattie," he said, squatting down to be on her level. "Pleased to meet you." He extended his hand and she didn't hesitate.

"Pleasure."

* * *

Lunch and dessert – ample serving of ice cream – had gone by so quickly that he felt as if time was slipping away from him. Lottie, Dani and Scott – her nurse – were lovely people. Dani was almost five years older than Hattie, but the two girls had practically grown up with one another.

Anne seemed to blossom too, with her daughter present. Pride and a natural ease that came with familiarity let Anne relax, and he saw glimpses of the girl he had known.

Hattie was, as her mother had said, somewhat of a genius. She was ahead of her peers in school, and – much to his delight – studying music, the violin specifically. If the little girl knew – or suspected – his connection to them, she never let on.

As the group walked back towards the hotel, along the beach, they had come across the rest of the group. He stood at the back of the group as Anne made introductions, when a little hand snuck into his.

Looking down, he saw Hattie looking up at him with those eyes of her mothers – and he gripped her hand just a bit tighter. She gestured at him, and he bent down.

"You're my dad, aren't you?"

He didn't know what to say, but he smiled despite the nerves. "Is it that obvious?"

She shook her head, those curls bouncing. "No. I just knew."

"How?"

"Well," she whispered, biting her lip. "I just knew because…" she looked over at her mother, currently introducing Lottie to each and every person who had come out – Anne glancing over at them with a smile. Hattie then looked back at him. "…because I just knew."

"Is that ok?" he asked, feeling more nervous than in his entire life. "That your mum didn't tell you?"

"She told me," Hattie corrected immediately. "Mum described you to me a long time ago. That's how I knew. You're the only one who fits the stories."

"You're not disappointed?" he probed, feeling still unsure. "It's hard to live up to a story version."

She shook her head, smiling. "You're _exactly_ what I pictured."

"And who's this?" Charles was asking.

He looked over and saw the flash of anxiety on Anne's face, their eyes meeting and the surge of love running through him.

"This is Hattie. Hattie's m-"Anne began, protective instinct clearly overwhelming the urge to tell these people about her child.

He felt the words on the tip of his tongue. He could just tell them Hattie was his. No one would question it. No one would think anything less of him.

"Hattie's with me." Lottie chose her words carefully, taking her nurse's arm for stability. "She's staying with us for a bit."

"That's nice," Louisa commented, smiling. "Don't you look rather dashing with a child Freddie."

"I should say it suits you," Captain Harville said, his look one of a cat that caught the canary. "Pity you don't have kids."

"We were just on our way to get changed," Anne said, turning the conversation away. "Before dinner, if we are still invited."

"Of course you are," Harville nodded, offering Anne his arm. "We shall with you all. What do you say _Freddie?_ "

* * *

"So," Harold Harville, affectionately known as Harvy, stood in Frederick's room. "should I guess or are you going to tell me?"

Frederick sighed, shrugging. "Depends on what you are going to say."

"Besides the fact that you are carrying on with a _19_ year old girl when in all the time I've known you, you have only had eyes for one woman," Harville exhaled tiredly. "a woman, I would like to point out, I met today along with a little girl who looks just like you."

"Is that a question?" Frederick asked, feeling cranky all of a sudden.

"What's going on Frederick?"

"I don't know," he admitted, sitting down on the bed. "I never thought I see her again, you know that. She was staying with her brother in law and her sister and, I…"

"You didn't know."

"Of course I didn't." Frederick said gently. "She almost died in hospital, Harvy, she lost a baby – and she was just a kid herself."

"She was 16, wasn't she?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "She left everything and everyone she'd ever known and moved to a different city. She's kept everything a secret, her family has no idea."

"From what you've told me, that is probably a good thing." Harville concluded, leaning against the wall.

There was a moment's silence between the two friends as each one was trying to make sense of everything.

"What's with the teenager?"

"I…thought I could make Anne jealous, well not jealous-"

"You wanted to hurt her."

"Initially. You saw me right after we broke up. You know – it doesn't matter," Frederick complained, standing. "It doesn't matter because after all this time, seeing her and kissing her – I can't forget her. And I certainly can't ignore that little girl."

"You kissed her?" Harville asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I kissed all the women of the house, to be fair." He retorted. "But she…I love her still. Anew? I don't even know."

"So, tell her," Harville encouraged. "She's not the same woman that broke your heart eight years ago. With everything that had happened-"

"Maybe she's different, but she also has a different life. Anne Elliot isn't going to break my heart twice. Plus, at this point, Louisa thinks were dating. I even over heard Charles and Mary chatting about if they thought we'd get married." Frederick scowled at the thought, but it was his own doing. His pride had gotten him into this mess. "I didn't mean for it to go on so long, and it doesn't feel right to just drop her like a hot stone now. She's a nice girl, after all."

A knock came at the door. "We're heading down to the lobby."

"We'll come with you." Harville called out, and Frederick strode to the door trying to fight the feelings welling up inside him. He wasn't sure how to undo what he had so foolishly created. He didn't want to hurt Louisa.

It was only the first day in Lyme. There were many more to follow.

 _I've got time,_ he thought.

 _Nothing can go wrong in a few days._


End file.
